The Call of a Lover
by LittlePlagueSpirit
Summary: Because for 7, all's fair in love and war. Even when the war is over, and her love is gone. A love story about 7, but not in the way you think. Don't be afraid to read.


**The Call of a Lover**

Sometimes, when she is resting and catching her breath or looking out for him on the horizon, 7 wonders when this all began. Not that time was a word that held any meaning in this world, but some clarity would be nice. To know the exact moment when she first met him: to remember the first sound, the first time she saw him move, the first time he looked her in her eyes –

And only to realize that that would have been the moment when she was cursed.

_If you could only see the beast you've made of me  
>I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free<em>

Although it is vague, after that first time something started to grow inside of her of which she didn't immediately know what it was. She only noticed the side-effects of it: the wanting to sneak glances at him without knowing why, softly whispering his name whenever he was gone, brushing her hand against his skin (because she cannot help but needs to).

_Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart  
>Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart<em>

After a while, it grew stronger. The brushing wouldn't be on accident anymore, his name wouldn't be a whisper anymore, the glances would turn into looks. She didn't know why, she didn't understand why, but she needed to do it, the feelings inside her grower stronger every time she submitted to them. Even at night, when she was supposed to rest with the others from the long day, she couldn't help but watch the movement of his body as it lay silent, tired from the fights of that day.

_My fingers claw your skin, try to tempt my way in  
>You are the moon that makes the night for which I have to howl<em>

But she preferred the mornings, signalling the arrival of the day. When the day came, the fights would start all over again. Everyone of them protected each other while at the same time tried to safe their one skin. The two of them became very good in that; working together when it was needed and letting the other go when it was time to leave. Because they knew that he couldn't leave her alone for long.

_My fingers claw your skin, try to tempt my way in  
>You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to<em>

_Howl, howl,_

_Howl, howl_

They couldn't keep on living this way thought. The option of defence that played the main role in the earlier days of their lives had to make place for a new strategy which required more skill, more strength and more sacrifices. Their old game of Hide-and-Seek would have to change into a twisted game of Tag; and when you would be tagged, you wouldn't become it, but a lifeless, empty body.

Yet when the new game started, she couldn't help but enjoy every single moment of it.

_Now there's no holding back, I'm making to attack  
>My blood is singing with your voice, I want to pour it out<em>

A game is never without some falls, disappointments and mistakes, and this game wasn't anything different; especially since this was a game where no rules existed. He got a cut in his arm, a knock against his head, and quickly the couple of hits became more than she could count. Soon she too came to bear her own signs of weakness on her body; the biggest almost taking her full name with it. She carried her scars with pride however, since they showed the other how hard her work for him had been.

During her battles, many offered her their help. 5 asked if everything was alright with her and how she was so sure that she was going to beat him some day. 6 sketched and scribbled and, during her visits, always showed her his drawings, desperately trying to make her understand that with her actions would come horrible consequences. The twins and 2 never said anything, but mainly showed their help by their actions; the twins by offering their advices and 2 by giving her his kind smiles and soft pats on her shoulder.

She all declined them. This was her battle to fight, and it would be everything but right if it would end in a victory provided by someone that was not her.

_The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound  
>I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallow'ed ground<em>

By that time, the thing inside her had grown so much that she couldn't ignore it anymore. At night when the moonlight made her skin come alive, she felt it stir and brew inside of her, warming her body and protecting her from the cold wind. While she knew that she had to be afraid of it, she couldn't help but to give into it; craving more and more of the warmth that it gave her while the world around her grew darker and colder.

More than anything, she wanted him.

_Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins  
>I want to find you, tear out all of your tenderness<em>

_And howl, howl  
>Howl, howl<em>

Nowadays she thought back on those days with a mix of bitterness and acing. Oh, oh, how foolish and how carefree she was then. How arrogant and reckless, as 1 liked to call her, had she played and acted on her emotions! Did she really not know what was happening to her at that time, she asked herself, or did she simply decide to ignore all the warning signs, drunk of the power giving by the silver of her spear and the touch of his metal against her burlap skin.

_Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers  
>Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters<br>Hunters, hunters, hunters  
>Hunters, hunters, hunters<em>

It was a battle like any other, yet when she was silently preparing herself for it, she knew that this one was going to be different. This time she didn't need to track him down by following his footsteps, but simply followed the footsteps of the others. This time she wasn't fighting to protect the cathedral or the others. This would be one that was going to last with her.

And it did. Because it became the last.

Or more accurate: for him.

The feeling of metal sliding through wires, a flicker of his red, burning eyes and the crashing sound of a collapsing skeleton without power – and it was done. The tagger had tagged the other player; the game was over. She was the winner, and the feelings that had grown so strong in her, she barley could hold them in, all died away.

But the curse remained.

Long she couldn't dwell on the loss. After one falls, a new one immediately was born. Bigger, sharper, and with more control and power than she ever had seem him be. He hold the control over so many others, all new and frightening and wanting nothing more than to rip the fabric of her frame. Yet they all looked the same on one clear point: they all had red eyes, just like he had.

And because of those eyes, the feelings came back, stronger than ever before.

_The fabric of your flesh, pure as a wedding dress  
>Until I wrap myself inside your arms I cannot rest<em>

_The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound  
>I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallow'ed ground<em>

_And howl_

Oh yes, she pushed them down at first. She scolded herself for it now, but it had happened unconsciously then. There had been so many things that happened after another, so many others that she had to protect next to herself now, so many other feelings that had taken over her heart that she had possibly no time to give in to what she wanted the most.

It was only after everything was silent, when so many of the others were dead and lifeless bodies like he was, that she allowed those feelings in her heart again. And when she felt them flowing through her like ink through 6's his fingers, familiar and refreshing, feeding her with power and making her head spin, all control was lost and the urge to run away freely to the dead and deserted wastelands grew stronger like never before.

_Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers  
>Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters<br>_

Only to find herself stopped by one of her own.

9. Young, stupid 9. The youngest of their coven who had meshed up the most but in the end had turned into the hero, tried to stop her with his courage and his idea of 'keeping everyone together'. It was so hard for her not to cut his voice-box out while he kept yelling about them being a family, that they had to bring the humans back as that was their job, trust upon them by their creator who had given them life.

Young, naïve, 9. Nothing could stop her anymore.

_A man who's pure of heart and says his prayers by night  
>May still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright<em>

She remembered with a grin how she had silenced him with a knock of her spear. How she had pushed him out of her way and ran away into the dark night, laughing and howling in joy because she was now finally free to give in to the things that she felt in her body, her heart, her _soul,_ and she had never felt more powerful than from that moment.

_If you could only see the beast you've made of me  
>I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free<br>_

She doesn't really know what still gives her the same feelings nowadays. She knows that he, her first one, is gone, and that 9 (that useless piece of burlap) killed all the other beasts by destroying The Fabrication Machine. He told her that by doing that, every machine on the whole planet would be killed and out of power, and that nothing would be alive anymore.

But if he is going to look for something impossible as a living and breathing human being, than she will not rest until she finds a new growling and biting lover to live for.

_The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound  
>I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallow'ed ground<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Inspiration<strong>: 'Howl' by Florence + The Machine & My Emotions. The song, nor the lyrics, I own. My emotions are my own.


End file.
